


as close as hands and feet

by jcp_sob_rjl_lmep



Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne is Flamebird, Damian Wayne is a good brother, Duke Thomas Needs a Hug, Duke Thomas is Signal, Gen, background stephcass, only tagged characters who had speaking roles but all of the family is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jcp_sob_rjl_lmep/pseuds/jcp_sob_rjl_lmep
Summary: It never should have happened.Flamebird was tying up the man he had just knocked out - the last of the conscious men, he had thought - when Signal shouted his name and he was pushed to the side.A gun went off.When Duke gets shot on patrol, Damian is the only person left in the city to help him. Will he be able to keep his brother alive until help arrives?
Relationships: Duke Thomas & Damian Wayne
Series: Batman Bingo 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907791
Comments: 10
Kudos: 67





	as close as hands and feet

**Author's Note:**

> Just for reference, this takes place in a time period where I was picturing Duke as around 20 years old and Damian around 17. My reasoning is in the end notes. Enjoy the ride!

“I’m just sayin’,” Signal said. The grin in his voice was audible.

“No.” Flamebird refused.

“I think you should have a catchphrase-”

“I don’t need a catchphrase-”

“ _Everyone_ should have a catchphrase-”

“Do _you_ have a catchphrase? _I didn’t think so_ -”

“And yours should totally be ‘Flame On’.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You are sleeping on _genius_ , baby bat.” Signal tilted his head to the side, neatly avoiding the aimed smack from Flamebird. “I’m wearing a helmet, what did you think that would do?”

Flamebird scowled back, but before he could respond, their comms crackled to life.

“No fighting, boys,” Oracle said.

“He started it,” Flamebird muttered.

“Oh, very mature,” Signal snorted. A short high whistle rang through their comms, leaving both brothers wincing.

“I _said_ no fighting,” Oracle repeated. They both muttered apologies and she continued. “Batman wanted me to remind you both-”

“Stick together,” Signal continued her sentence.

“Don’t fight,” Flamebird nodded.

“Watch out for each other,”

“Black Bat and Spoiler are going to be home on Sunday, so stay out of trouble until then.”

“We know,” They ended in unison.

“That about covers it,” Oracle agreed. “I’m heading out as well. Please be safe, you know that A is gone and the doc is at her medical conference.”

“We’ll be fine, Oracle. Quick patrol and we’ll head back home.” Signal replied confidently.

Famous last words, huh?

* * *

Their patrol started fine. After Oracle signed off of comms, they began swinging around Gotham, mostly stopping petty crimes and the like. The trouble started around 3 am, when they would usually be ending patrol anyway.

It was an old abandoned warehouse. It was always an old abandoned warehouse in Gotham; it’s a wonder that any of them could be abandoned, with how many criminals that chose to use them as bases.

Drug smugglers, a gang of fifteen men. Usually, the policy was to wait before taking down smugglers, to ensure that they weren’t connected to a bigger villain, but these smugglers made two bad choices: they were cutting the drugs with another white powder, and they were planning on using kids to send out the product.

Everyone in the family hated it when kids were brought into things.

So the lights flickered, when Signal and Flamebird dropped to opposite sides of the warehouse, beginning silent takedowns. They had the pool down to seven conscious men when the first body was discovered, and the real fight began.

Flamebird and Signal, just like the other members of their family, were skilled at covering each other’s blind spots and fighting as a unit.

It never should have happened.

Flamebird was tying up the man he had just knocked out - the last of the conscious men, he had thought - when Signal shouted his name and he was pushed to the side.

A gun went off.

Flamebird rolled with the force, turning as he landed to see that Signal was laying on the ground, blood already pooling around him. The man who had shot him was still holding the gun in the air; a quick shuriken removed it from his hand (along with a fingertip or two) and Flamebird stopped to ensure he was knocked out before hurrying to his brother.

“Signal, status report!” He demanded. Signal groaned, but lifted his head from the ground.

“Hit me in the shoulder,” He wheezed. “I think...through and through…”

Flamebird called up his wrist computer, inputting the command for the Batmobile to make its way to them. He alerted the police to their location, but didn’t bother calling any of their family members; everyone was out of town, and he needed to focus on Signal.

“The Batmobile is coming,” Flamebird reassured him. “Let me look at the back of your shoulder and ensure it came out.”

It had indeed been a through and through, which was a small reassurance. Flamebird wasn’t sure how exactly the bullet had managed to pass through the Kevlar armor, but at the moment he didn’t have to fish a bullet out of his brother.

He pulled out some clean gauze and handed it to Signal for his shoulder while he made his way around the warehouse, tying restraints on all of the goons that would be left for the police. Typically, they would wait for the officers to arrive, but as soon as the Batmobile roared up outside the building, Flamebird had bigger priorities.

* * *

Damian tore off his domino once the Batmobile’s doors were closed, ignoring the stinging pain left in its wake. “Signal, keep pressure on your wound.”

Duke's helmet fell to his footwell, easily allowing Damian to hear his gasping cries of pain as he pressed his hand to his shoulder.

Damian pressed on the gas and they sped off. Even at top speed, it would be at least fifteen to twenty minutes back to the Cave, which was the only place with the equipment they needed. He glanced over just in time to see Duke's eyes roll back in his head.

“Thomas!” He snapped, trying hard to keep the fear out of his voice. “Stay awake!”

Duke's head jerked back up with a gasp, then a moan of pain, but his grip tightened around the wound again. This continued for most of the ride until they were about five minutes out.

“We’re almost there,” Damian said, unsure if he was saying it for himself or for his brother. But Duke didn’t respond. “Thomas?”

Duke's head drooped onto his uninjured shoulder, swaying with every move the Batmobile made. His hand was on his lap, and blood was freely dripping from his wound. There was no indication that he heard Damian, only that Damian could see the shallow rise-and-fall of his chest.

“Duke!” Damian snarled.

Duke didn’t respond.

Damian cursed and went faster.

* * *

Damian made quick work of stripping Duke’s armor off, down to the black undershirt and shorts that they all wore underneath their uniforms. The shirt at least was easy to tear off, but Damian felt comfortable leaving his brother’s pants alone.

With that done, he pulled up the straps from underneath the cot and set about restraining Duke; it wasn’t always done, but there were usually other family members to hold limbs down. Damian couldn’t take the chance that Duke would swing out and hurt him; he was Duke’s only help, and he didn’t have the time to call anyone else, nor the time to wait the hours it would take for them all to arrive.

Luckily the bleeding had slowed; Damian stood at Duke’s shoulder, preparing himself for the next step.

“I’m sorry,” He said, although Duke was still unresponsive.

That quickly changed as Damian began to clean out the wound; Duke screamed, attempting to pull away, fighting against the restraints. Damian continued apologizing as he worked until Duke finally lost consciousness again and he turned away for the gauze. Packing the wound caused Duke to whimper, but not wake, and Damian unstrapped his arm so that he would be able to manipulate his body and wrap the wound.

Tired as he was, Damian did one last thing: pulling out a bag of blood, he set up an IV, beginning to replace everything that Duke had lost.

Finally, dirty, grimy, and covered in his brother’s drying blood, Damian pulled up a chair, laid his head on the side of Duke’s cot, and attempted to not cry himself to an exhausted sleep.

* * *

Damian woke with a gasp, shoving himself away from the cot and crashing to the floor. On the bed, Duke didn’t stir. Damian groaned, pushing himself to his feet. He was incredibly sore, but he had other priorities at the moment.

The bandage on Duke’s shoulder was spotted with blood; Damian was glad that it hadn’t completely bled through, and he knew that it was important to leave the wound packed, so he simply wrapped more bandages around it and left it alone. The blood bag was empty, so he switched it out for a fresh one.

Then he headed for the Batcomputer.

Drake was in California with his friends, which meant he was the only other family member within the US. Damian called him first.

Unfortunately, the clone picked up the call.

“I need to speak to-” Damian started.

“God, can’t he have one weekend away from you people? Stop being so impatient. He’ll be home soon enough.”

And before Damian could protest, the call disconnected. The disappointment ached in his chest; suddenly, he noticed that Duke’s blood was flaking off of his hands, falling to the keyboard. He swallowed sudden nausea and moved on to his next call.

Grayson and Gordon were both unavailable in Italy; Cassandra and Brown were likewise not answering from France. There was no point in calling Todd, he was in space and therefore would be unavailable until he announced his return to the family.

He had one last option, and he held out hope as it rang, and rang, and rang…

But finally, it was answered.

“Father,” Damian gasped.

* * *

Bruce was in the middle of a rather important WE meeting when his phone rang with a notification from the Cave system. He knew that Duke and Damian were holding down the fort in Gotham, so to speak, so he quickly made his excuses and left the room as quickly as possible. Luckily it was getting late, so the others were glad to take a few minutes’ break before continuing. He shut himself in a smaller private room before hitting the green button to answer the call.

Damian looked exhausted; there was a streak of dry blood from his jawline all the way up one cheek, the rest of his face was grimy but streaked with the remains of tears. He was still dressed in his underclothes, but those looked rather worn as well, and his hair was held back by what Bruce feared was more dried blood.

“Damian, what the hell happened to you? Are you okay?” Bruce questioned, his voice slipping deeper into a growl before he could stop it.

“Father,” Damian’s voice nearly broke, which was what really sent Bruce’s heart rate through the roof. He glanced behind Damian, and-

“Is that Duke?” He demanded.

“Father, Duke has been shot,” Damian reported. Bruce didn’t think he had noticed that his hands were shaking.

“Where?”

“In his right shoulder; it was through-and-through, but he lost a lot of blood.”

Bruce paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. He needed to go home right away, but Lucius would kill him if he didn’t at least finish this meeting. But Duke, his _son_ …

“Did you call your siblings?” He asked.

“No one answered,” Damian shook his head. He was hiding something, Bruce could tell, but the urgency of Duke’s situation took precedence.

“Go and shower, Damian. Get Duke’s blood off. Check on him after, if you need to, but then I want you to go up and bring some food down with you, okay? I’m going to call Alfred and finish this meeting, and we’ll be home as soon as we can. You’re doing so well, _habibi_.”

Damian took a shaky breath and hung up first, leaving Bruce alone in the dark room. He planted his hands on the table a moment before he could stagger; his son had been shot, not only that but in the shoulder, which could be a very delicate place to heal if not taken care of properly. He couldn’t remember now why he had thought it was a good idea to leave his youngest sons alone, regardless of the fact that they could usually take care of themselves. Urgency filled him; he needed to leave Hong Kong immediately.

He navigated to his contacts and hit the first number. It was picked up promptly, as usual.

“Alfred, we need to get home. Have the jet prepared - Duke’s been shot.”

* * *

Duke remained unconscious through Damian’s shower and trip upstairs; he only woke after Damian had been sitting at his bedside again for another several hours. He mostly dozed after that, although never going as deep as he had been.

“Hey,” Duke croaked. His hand swung off of the cot, flopping around until Damian finally reached out and grasped it. “Been thinking about my catchphrase.”

“Oh good Lord,” Damian rolled his eyes, noting absently that he had picked up the phrase from Alfred, speaking it with a faint British inflection.

“No...lissen. _Lissen_.” Duke slurred. Damian reached out, a frown tugging at his lips, and noted with a growing sense of alarm that Duke was warmer than usual. “I see you.”

“I see you too,” Damian replied.

“No, my phrase,” Duke’s hand came out of Damian’s and nearly smacked him in the face. “ _I see you_ ,”

“ _I_ could’ve been an only child,” Damian muttered, capturing his brother’s hand and trapping it back under Duke’s blanket. With his brother efficiently ensnared, he moved to the counter, searching for the thermometer.

It confirmed his fears - Duke was running a fever. His brother tended to have a higher temperature anyway, a side effect of his powers, but his usual temperature was not 101.4.

“Duke, I need you to stay still,” Damian said firmly, grabbing his brother’s chin and waiting for Duke’s attention to focus back on him. “I need to look at the wound. Can you remain still, or do you need me to restrain you?”

Duke’s arm flailed out, knocking into Damian’s stomach hard enough that the breath left his lungs. Grimly, Damian once again pulled the restraints out, quickly strapping Duke back down and starting to peel back the wrappings and gauze.

Sure enough, dark skin was starting to become inflamed; the area directly around it already had the beginning of discharge appearing, and Damian was upset with himself. He had cleaned the wound before he put gauze down, and all of the gauze that had been used in the area had been new and sterile. How had he messed that up?

Duke’s distress was beginning to grow; he rocked from side to side, attempting to free his arms. Damian made the same soothing noises that their father did, trying to calm his brother as he redressed the wound. Alfred and Bruce were at most an hour away from home, and there was nothing that Damian would be able to do to improve the situation before they got home.

Damian unstrapped Duke once he was calm, and he didn’t take long to slip back into sleep, letting Damian venture back over to the Batcomputer, although with a pit of worry in his chest. He hadn’t attempted to contact his siblings again, and he wasn’t sure that Bruce would’ve thought of it.

He tried Grayson first.

“Little D!” His older brother greeted him cheerfully. He was outside somewhere windy, black strands brushing on and off of his face. Damian almost felt worse about what he had to tell him knowing that he was going to break his good mood.

“Staying out of trouble?” Gordon called from off-camera, a smile in her voice. She clearly expected him to agree.

“Grayson, there’s been an incident,” The words were a struggle to push past his lips. Grayson’s smile began to fade. “Thomas has been shot.”

“Where?” Grayson demanded, already standing from the table he had been stationed at. It looked as though they had been at a cafe.

“His right shoulder was hit; the bullet went through completely. Father and Pennyworth are coming back early, their ETA is less than an hour from now.”

“We’re coming back too. Have you called everyone else?” Grayson asked. The camera shifted as he moved; finally, Gordon took possession of it, holding it as Grayson pushed her chair along the street.

“I tried earlier, the only one that picked up was Father,” Damian replied.

“Shit, we were in the opera. Our phones were off. I’m sorry, Dami, we didn’t even think-” Grayson began to explain.

“It’s fine,” Damian cut him off. “I should call the others.”

“We’ll be home as soon as we can,” Grayson promised.

The call to Cassandra and Brown went the same; Damian felt bad for cutting their honeymoon short, but he also knew that if he didn’t tell them, they would be upset to learn it upon their return. They had missed his earlier attempt at contact due to their phones dying whilst they were out exploring the city, but they promised just the same to be home as soon as possible. He left a message for Todd, who was still out of service range, and then to his final call.

Damian really hoped that the clone didn’t pick up again.

Thankfully, it was his brother this time, frowning at the camera. “Damian? What’s wrong?”

“Thomas was shot,” Damian’s voice wavered. It only upset him more; he had held it together through all of the other calls, but this was the one determined to break him?

“When? Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

“On patrol, through the shoulder. I did call earlier but-”

“Kon,” Drake snapped, blue eyes going cold and gray with anger. They softened for a moment when his eyes met Damian’s. “Damian, I’m getting in the plane, okay? I’ll be home soon.”

* * *

Sure enough, an hour later, Bruce and Alfred made their hurried way into the Cave; Duke woke briefly only moments before, and Damian was feeding him ice chips when they arrived.

“Boys!” Bruce called, restrained panic alive in his voice.

“Father!” Damian called back, some of the tension leaving his body just upon hearing his father’s voice. It was childish of him, perhaps, but Batman, _Father_ , had always meant safety; Father would make everything alright again.

Both of the older men made their way directly to Duke as Damian moved back; Bruce leaned down to press a kiss to Duke’s forehead, although they all knew that while he meant the gesture, it was also a veiled way to check his vitals. He straightened with a frown.

“Alfred, he’s warm.”

“He’s developing an infection, Father, I’m sorry,” Damian apologized. “I cleaned the wound and tried to stop the bleeding, but-”

“This isn’t your fault, habibi,” Bruce interrupted, turning to take Damian into his arms. “I know that you did your best. Infections can sometimes just come on. We’re home now, it’s going to be okay.”

Damian took a moment to let his father be his strength, hiding his face in his father’s chest as the bigger man held his weight. Only a moment, and then he stood on his own feet again.

“I called the others, Father. Todd is still out of range, but everyone else is on their way home.”

As if on cue, the outside sensor for the Cave beeped, and the Batplane soared inside.

“Good work, Damian. I’m very proud of you,” Bruce affirmed.

Drake came out of the plane at a near run. “How can I help?”

* * *

Duke was fuzzy. The world was a haze of pain and bright lights, interspersed occasionally with the face of his younger brother, lips tight with worry, eyes bright with fear. In his more lucid moments, he tried to reassure him, to say something funny, but those moments never lasted long. He couldn’t say how much time had passed since he had been shot, how long it was that he and Damian had been on their own.

And then he opened his eyes, and Bruce was standing over him, rubbing a hand over his head, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and Alfred was there, calling him ‘Master Duke’ and asking questions that he didn’t expect Duke to answer.

But even when his world fractured into pain again, it didn’t hurt as much as it had, because his dad was there to hold his hand through it all.

* * *

Every time he woke up after that, Bruce was sitting by the bed, either reading a book or doing paperwork. When Duke woke up the third time that he could remember, they moved him upstairs to his room, a walk that he stubbornly made on his own legs, although with Bruce’s support. By the time they got there, he was trembling with exhaustion, the feeling that he was going to hate himself later, but also the satisfaction that he had been able to do something after being in the Cave for so long.

Bruce also provided updates every time Duke woke up. At first, it was a mantra to calm him down in those first awful nights when he regularly woke up crying out in pain, a simple “Date, weather, you’re safe, I’m here, Alfred is upstairs with Tim and Damian,”. And suddenly Duke woke up one day and all of his siblings were home, apparently eager to see him awake.

“Even Jason came home early,” Bruce said, his palm warming Duke’s knee over the blanket. “Kara went on the mission with him; she was listening here, she said, and when she focused on Connor, she heard his phone call with Damian and then found out what had happened to you. If Jason hadn’t insisted on coming back, she would have.”

The Kents were most of the Get Well cards on his bedside table, anyways; Kon’s had a heavily-written apology penned inside, but the one time Duke had been awake to mention it to Tim, his older brother’s eyes went a little colder with leftover anger. He hadn’t brought it up since, but he knew that whatever had happened, Kon had more apologizing to do.

Apart from Bruce, Damian was Duke’s constant companion; in a rare alone moment, Alfred told Duke that the entire situation had shaken the youngest Wayne, frightening him to realize that Duke could have died and Damian would have been alone without help anywhere nearby.

“He’ll begin to feel better eventually,” Alfred assured him, fluffing Duke’s pillows and fussing over his sling for a moment. “It’s a harrowing thing, to hold your brother’s life entirely in your hands. As you improve, so will he. But you’ll find that your relationship with him could change; you’ll be closer, now. You’ve survived together.”

* * *

The days passed, good and bad; Duke spent longer and longer periods awake, and after about a week of being in his room, was well enough to trek to the living room and stretch out on a couch in there, so that became the most-used room in the Manor rather quickly. Everyone was staying close to home, although Tim had finally forgiven Kon, who had also dropped by to apologize in person; from what Damian had told Duke, he had been chewed out by both Batman and Superman, even though he hadn’t blocked their access to Tim in a malicious way.

Bruce had also implemented new protocols for the family, as he always did after a big incident. The most important one was that someone trained in medical care would always remain in the boundaries of Gotham so that there was never a chance of major injury and no one to turn to again. Everyone was also given a basic communicator to carry with them everywhere; it could be set to silently vibrate if they were in a place meant to be silent, but everyone needed to be contactable.

Even though no one blamed him, and Bruce didn’t force him, Damian decided to undergo more thorough medical training. One dark night, he slid under the covers next to Duke, trembling; he mumbled out an explanation that he kept having nightmares of Duke bleeding out before they got back, or on the table in the Cave, or the infection being worse, or-

Duke spent the rest of that night with his little brother tucked under his good arm.

But the medical training was helping, and those bad nights were interspersed with more and more good ones.

* * *

It was a quiet night, but Duke knew Damian's footsteps when he heard them clattering on the tiles of the roof. His arm was healing, so he took his sling off for a moment, tucking it into his waistband for the climb out of his window up to the sloping roof.

Sure enough, his younger brother sat on a flatter area, staring up at the stars. Duke began putting his sling back on as he ambled over, sitting beside him and knocking his uninjured shoulder against Damian's.

Damian immediately looked over, giving him a minute scowl. “You could've hurt yourself more.”

“I’m fine,” Duke defended himself.

Damian sniffed. “Fine. See if I care.”

“Damian…” Duke sighed, deciding to change the track of the conversation. “Thank you. For saving my life. I don’t think I’d said it yet.”

“Someone had to do it,” Damian replied, but he sounded warmer again, softer than his earlier words.

“And I’m glad it was you,” Duke pushed, finally getting Damian to smile. He smiled like their father did; his lips twitched slightly, upturning at the corners, but his eyes lit up, green brightening with pleasure.

Damian smirked in Duke’s direction, gently teasing, “I’m still not using ‘Flame On’.”

“It’s so good!” Duke protested, chuckling. Damian huffed a laugh, returning his gaze to the stars that soared above them. Duke turned his attention up as well, sitting pressed thigh-to-thigh, shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother.

“Love you, man,” He murmured, not expecting Damian to reply.

“I love you, akhi,” Came the unexpected whisper back. Duke grinned.

And so the night passed for the youngest Wayne boys; quiet, peaceful, healing, and most of all, together.

**Author's Note:**

> So in the last story, Duke had a line that basically said he'd be more comfortable with everyone after he'd lived in Gotham a while longer. I wanted to write a story where Duke and Damian were a little older and therefore comfortable in their place in the family. Damian's a little more emotionally open, if you noticed, and that's my reasoning for that. There are no more awkward 'getting to know my new sibling' moments; they're brothers, and that's their siblings and their dad and their butler-grandpa. It's comfortable.  
> Downloads are fine but please don't post this anywhere else without my permission.  
> Feel free to come catch me on [tumblr](https://iwillstaywiththemforever.tumblr.com).  
> This fills the Recovery square on my Batfam Bingo 2020 card! To see the full card, the link is on the series page.  
> Love you all, and once again I hope to see you tomorrow!


End file.
